


My Sister, My Heart

by applejuice_motherfucker



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applejuice_motherfucker/pseuds/applejuice_motherfucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She deserves this. Even if it's not really real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sister, My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous request fill on Tumblr.
> 
> I really, reeeeally adore Roxy, I love her to pieces. I agree with Dirk on every point about her, she's gorgeous.

You really think that there's nobody in the universe you'd rather spend your time with.

 She giggles at whatever you just said, letting her shoe slip off her foot, watching it tumble to the bottom of the hill, burying itself in the dark grass, moonlight glittering off the little silver buckle. It's close to midnight, you figure, but its not cold at all; she's sitting close enough that you can catch some of her heat.

 “I meant what I said, you know. About you, I mean,” you remind her, and she only nods, still smiling wide. She knows exactly what you're referring to, and that's the reason that you love her. She just gets it. She's always had her shit together even when she was blazed out her fucking mind. She's the only one who really ever has.

 “So did I, dude. About, y'know, that thing. Uh...you being my favourite guy ever and shit, remember?” She isn't embarrassed, or awkward about it at all. Just completely up front and candid. She rests her cheek against your shoulder, arm threading through yours and you take her hand, clasping your fingers together with hers, holding her close. “We're super fucked, ain't we?” Her voice is small, but she's still smiling. You want her to smile forever, until the day she dies.

 “Wouldn't go that far. Maybe we're just 'kinda' fucked. Not super, that's a little extreme, Jesus Christ, Roxy,” you say. She laughs again, swatting at you a little, pressing her mouth against the skin of your arm, smiling into you. Resting your head on top of hers you let out a sigh. Her other foot wiggles out of its shoe and pushes it away so she can curl her legs up beneath her. Her hair tickles your neck as she looks up at you, forgetting what she was about to say.

 You would give anything to give her what she wants.

 Before she can speak you press a soft kiss to her lips. She doesn't react at first, just watches you. Then slowly reaches up to remove your shades, which you allow, blinking at her a little as your eyes adjust. She smiles, lopsided and perfect, and kisses your cheek, breathing in as your arm wraps around her waist. You can still feel her smiling and its contagious as you kiss her again, her fingers tangling in your hair.

 You fall back, pulling her on top of you, her legs kicking in the air a little as she giggles against you. You tickle her sides lightly and she breaks off to laugh, pushing at your shoulders as you laugh with her.

 You pause to think for a moment, though she doesn't. She kisses you again, putting a little more pressure into it, a little more warmth and a tiny piece of desperation. She shivers, your arms curling around her back instinctively, and she takes this as a 'yes'.

 You feel her lips parting slightly, a soft breath ghosting over you. You kiss back. She deserves this. Even if it's not really real.

 You feel her tongue pushing gently, hesitant and nervous, and she's not smiling any more, so you sit up and pull her into your lap, drawing her closer into you. Her hands shake, unsure of what to do but eventually land, one on your shoulder, the other back in your hair, twisting anxiously like she doesn't understand why this is happening. Perhaps she thinks you're just humouring her. Perhaps she's right. Either way, you just want to make her happy.

 Your tongue wraps around hers, lips pushing her open, and she gasps. You peek one eye open; hers are scrunched shut, like she's concentrating so hard on not fucking this up. The hand on your shoulder paws gently at your wifebeater as her knees quiver either side of you. You pause again, pulling back a fraction to let her catch her breath. She doesn't open her eyes.

 You bring a hand up to card through her hair, tucking it behind her ear, stroking down to her chin, silently asking if she's okay. She makes a tiny noise, blinking hard and refusing to look at you. For a moment you think you've completely fucked everything up.

 Just as you're about to apologise she lets out a long shaky breath, a small smile dancing back onto her face.

 “Fuckin' always knew you'd be a killer mack, bro,” she says with a tiny giggle, hitting you on the shoulder softly. Relief flushes through you, making your chest swell with something close to pride, and you can't hold back the loud laugh that fights its way out. You fall back, flopping on the ground as she remains on top of you. “The fuck is Jake even doing giving up _all this_ , anyway?” She gestures to all of you, suddenly grinning wide. You laugh again and shake your head.

 She stays sitting on you for a while longer, talking nonsense, laughing at anything you say. By the time she falls asleep against your chest the sun is already half way risen.

 You would kill to let her laugh forever.


End file.
